WHY DIDN'T I GO TO THE SUSTAINABILITY CONFERENCE
by Robin Wheeler, Owner, Edible Landscapes

Imagine that planet earth is just some kind of big bank, and that all of its resources were like money. Lets say that we would withdraw some trees to build a house, and oh heck , how about a garage, storeroom and fence. Then we would take out some fossil fuel so we could drive to the store for some imported food and pick up some videos, and then take some air so we could expel greenhouse gases into it, so we could take the videos back. Sound about right? And lets say that David Suzuki was correct, and we were all taking too much out of the Bank, and it may have to close its doors.

The speaker I would want at the conference would be the representative of the
Real World Bank (I mean the real world). I imagine this figure would look something like a spinning mass of matter, and it would twirl confidently at the center of the stage, a little ticked off.

“You! Shareholders and clients of the Real World Bank! What are you going to do about this mess?”
“Wha...? Mess? You mean how the bank is running out?”
“We? Like, us? What are we supposed to do? We just live here? It must be some large corporation you should be pinning the blame on.”
“Arrrrhhh...,” moans the Twirling Mass, “and who BUYS from the large corporation? It’s you! You’re the johns!”
A sharp intake of breath goes up from the crowd.
“Hey! I buy secondhand, don't look at me.”
“But what are you going to do about it” storms the Mass.
“Wait! I think it’s those people in other countries we should blame,” someone yells.
“Oh! You mean those people working in warehouses for mere pennies so that you can own cheap computer toys? Try again!”
“Well, what do you expect us to do?” calls a man at the back of the crowd.
“Ya, what do you think we’re supposed to do?” echoes a woman in the third row.
“Change! “ Cries the Mass. “Every last one of you has to make a change!”
The crowd is silent. A low mutter of disagreement is heard.
“You!” The Twirling Mass cries, a spinning finger projecting from it, “what are YOU going to do to change things at the Real World Bank?”
A trembling man in the fourth row rises. “Me?? Uh, well, I could leave the trees up at the back of the yard, to make shade, so I wouldn’t have to water as much, and I could offer my neighbour rides to save fossil fuels... Um, I could stop washing my driveway ...”
“Well, that’s something”, says the Mass. “And YOU, back row, end.”
Another frightened person stands, a retired woman. “Well, I could buy some food from the local vegetable stand so fewer trucks had to drive here ... is that the kind of thing you mean? And I could promise only to drive every other day to do my shopping?”
“Better” cries the Mass, “but you’ll all have to think hard to keep this bank open. Now go home and CHANGE!”

And everyone would go home a bit tired but glad that was over. And 18 people would change their behavior by 4%.

So that’s why I didn’t go to the conference. My favourite rep wasn’t there to point fingers at me and remind me that until I change, nothing above me will change. But I’ll try to do my 4% anyway. Um. How about you? (Just practicing!)

Robin Wheeler is the owner of Edible Landscaping and author of the Gardening Book Gardening for the Faint of Heart, and munches the odd bit of violet, miner’s lettuce and corn salad on the way to her compost bin.